


Together We are Giant

by Telesilla



Category: Baseball RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: Baseball, Coming Out, San Francisco Giants, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-09
Updated: 2014-08-09
Packaged: 2018-02-12 10:35:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2106495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telesilla/pseuds/Telesilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Buster's not alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Together We are Giant

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in a season in the near future.

Buster's not crying when Belt finds him down in the cages. He's having a bit of a freak out, maybe even a tiny panic attack, but he's not crying. He almost wishes he could cry, wishes he could have that release, but it's not going to happen here at AT&T. 

"Oh hey," Belt says, his voice easy and casual. "I thought I'd come down and hit a few...." He peers at Buster, his forehead creasing. "Dude, are you okay?"

"Yeah," Buster says, drawing in a shaky breath. And then before he can stop himself, he says, "except for the fact that I'm kinda freaking out here." And wow, he does not want to talk to Belt--or anyone else in the team--about this, but it seems he doesn't have a choice. He kind of wishes he'd been standing or even sitting on the bench like a normal person, but no, he's squatting flat footed on the bench. It's kind of hard to casually stroll away, which is what he wants to do.

For a minute Belt looks like he'd rather be anywhere else, but he sits down on the floor opposite Buster. "Don't blame you," he says. "It's got to be scary."

"I've done the scary part," Buster says with a scowl. "The press conference and the interviews and the radio and TV spots and all."

"I dunno about that. I mean, I don't know about any of this, but...." He sighs. "Look, you know how it is with me, how the fans are."

Buster nods, because of course he knows. Even though Belt's proved himself over and over, even though he's come so far from his Baby Giraffe days, he's still a polarizing player.

"I mean, I know it's not the same thing, but the interviews and radio stuff are easy. The comments and the KNBR callers and the constant speculation day after day are what sucks." He shrugs a little. "It's not anything near as bad as what you're going to have to put up with but still, I watched all the interviews and stuff; you look focused, like you're using all your concentration to get through it. Playing...that's probably gonna be different."

"Huh." Without thinking about it, Buster rises up off his heels and balances on the balls of his feet. "Could be."

"I wish," Belt starts to say. Then he shakes his head. "Never mind."

"No, what?"

"It sucks that you have to do this without...someone. I mean, in your life."

It's the closest Belt's ever gotten to the subject of Buster's ex, even though, along with the whole team, Belt knows about Cory and how Buster's relationship crashed and burned during the last season. People reacted differently--Bum swore he was gonna track Cory down and beat the crap out of him and Chelsea did her best to wrap Buster in a warm domestic blanket made of kids and dogs to make sure he knew people cared. The rest of the team seemed to be at a loss as to how to deal with it, so most of them just looked sympathetic and kept to innocuous subjects. Given that Buster fucking hates talking about his feelings with anyone, let alone teammates, that was just fine with him.

Before he says anything, Belt gives him a very earnest look. "You've got us. You know that, right?"

And yeah, Buster does. There isn't a guy on the team who hasn't supported him ever since he first came out to them on a champagne soaked night back in 2010. He's not sure who says it or how they say it, but each year the new guys somehow find out and it's never been a problem. And now that he's finally done it--finally come out to the rest of the world--they've spent Spring Training dealing with the press without a single complaint.

Well Bum did, although calling his outburst a complaint is putting it mildly. It wasn't directed at Buster, though. He'd gotten right up in Karl Ravich's face and told him flat out that it wasn't Buster that was the distraction. That Buster had never been a distraction or a problem, that they'd always known and had still followed him to three World Championships. "It's _you_ people that's the distraction. It's like ya'll want us to be upset so you have a better story, so you gotta keep poking us. Like because we're a buncha dumb ball players we're gonna prove that we're too stupid and too narrow-minded to deal with gay teammates. And that's gonna prove that gay guys don't belong in the show. Ain't gonna happen, least not in this clubhouse so just get the...."

Now, in spite of his nerves, Buster can't help smiling. "Yeah, I know. And I...appreciate it. Well, just as long as Bum doesn't go off on Baseball Tonight. He's gonna get more than a fine if he does it again."

"That was fucking awesome, though," Belt says with his big grin. 

Buster smiles back, but he doesn't know what else to say. Belt's trying to help, but all he did was throw what Buster's feelings into focus. The team can say all the right things, but Buster's still going it alone. 

They sit in silence and then Buster moves out of his crouch and stands up--time to get his shit together and get ready for the game. Belt scrambles to his feet with a sigh. "Wish I was that flexible."

"You should go back to doing yoga," Buster says as he stretches. 

"Yeah, but then I'd have to get up early."

As Buster heads out of the cage, he turns back and looks at Belt. "Brandon? Thanks."

"I just wish...." Belt shrugs a little and starts pulling on his batting gloves.

The last exhibition games go well, probably because they're at home. To be fair, things had gone pretty well when they went across the Bay to play Oakland. A few fans had yelled things, but they'd been drowned out by applause. It had even been a little weird; Buster's been booed more than once in Oakland simply for being Buster Posey and now he's being cheered for the same reason.

Still, he's stressed and nervous as all fuck as they get on the plane for Phoenix. Tony La Russa has been less than supportive--he's firmly in the "it's a distraction the game doesn't need" camp. Buster's pretty sure the D'backs will take their cues from him. Not to mention that Phoenix isn't exactly the most liberal cities out there.

Buster's pretty sure he's doing his best to keep his nerves to himself, but apparently he isn't because everyone gives him a lot of space in the visiting clubhouse before the first game. He keeps his head down, trying to force himself to focus. He did fine in Oakland and at home, but this is the blank slate. This is when the numbers start to matter, when he's got to step up and handle the staff and do his part to ensure wins. Standing alone in the bathroom, he splashes water on his face, takes a deep breath and heads back into the clubhouse. 

Everyone is clustered around in little clumps--four or five guys to a group. Buster's a little confused but then he sees they're all looking at phones and iPads.

"Um," Belt looks nervous. "You should probably see this...um before we go out to take BP."

Shit, Buster thinks. What now? Everyone in the room looks pretty worried as Belt hands Buster an iPad. 

There's a photo on it--on Instagram, Buster notices without really thinking about it. He's too busy trying to figure out what he's looking at. It's everyone in their BP jerseys, all set up in a couple rows for a team photo--only their backs are all to the camera. "Huh?" he mutters before what he's seeing really sinks in. 

All the names on the backs of the jerseys are correct, but the numbers aren't--everyone's wearing number twenty-eight. Every single one of them. Under the photo, it says: @bbelt9 Getting ready for BP on Opening Day. #togetherwearegiant #togetherweare28

"Guys," Buster says. "You...." He has to stop and blink because the screen is getting blurry fast.

"I told you," Belt says. "You got us."

"But," Buster says. "I mean...you can't go out on the field with the wrong numbers, can you?"

"We're probably going to get fined," Cain says. "But we're ready." 

"Anyways, we already knew we're gonna get all kinds of fines for fighting this year," Bum says, looking almost eager.

"Jesus, Bum," Buster says. "Just don't get suspended?" He looks around the room. "None of you get suspended, okay? Because we're gonna do it again this year and we're gonna need everyone."

Speeches like that are more Hunter's thing than Buster's, but everyone grins and cheers. 

"Hey Brandon," Buster says as everyone heads into the tunnel toward the field. "Was this your idea?" He hands the iPad over. 

"Yeah. The other day I was wishing there was a way to show you that you're not alone. That we really are with you--in here and out there."

"I think...I really do know that now."

Brandon puts the iPad down on a bench. To Buster's surprise, he steps up and gives Buster a big hug. "Kinda had to hit you over the head with it."

"Yeah well, I can be stupid that way." 

"Now c'mon," Brandon says, punching Buster's arm. "Let's go play ball."

 

_-end-_


End file.
